King Of Hearts
by pearls1990
Summary: Sometimes love means not ever having to say that you are sorry." Miles left Phoenix at his most desperate hour. Now Phoenix is just an empty shell of himself.
1. Chapter 1

This fan-fiction was inspired by a certain picture; if you want to see it, PM me and I can send you the link.

First, I want to thank _XStormyX_ for her patience and her phenomenal skills as a Beta-Reader!  
This story is dedicated to_ XStormyX_, to_ L_A,_ my other beta-reader who has been infinitely patient with me; to_ Crouton_ and her love of Miles Edgeworth; and to anyone who has ever experienced the loss of true love, but found it again, this story is dedicated to you.  
I do not own any characters in this story; nor do I own the poem at the beginning. Thank you for reading.

* * *

**King of Hearts**

_**The sweet melody of love encompasses the distance between the heavens and the earth – on one end, the radiant smile; on the other, an ocean of tears. As does melody bring one, so shall it bring the other.**_

Franziska Von Karma shivered as she entered the Borscht Bowl. It seemed colder than usual as she wrapped her arms around herself. She had forgotten about the perpetual winter that the restaurant held and it was a shock to walk in from the heavy Los Angeles heat into the bitter Russian tundra that the Bowl mocked. She stood and got her bearings as a large man lumbered over to her rambling in fluent Russian the whole way.

"Velcome old friend!" His voice carried over the unusually crowded restaurant. "Vhat brings you here today, Franziska Von Karma? A nice cool bowl of famous Borscht? Or is it famous Card Shark?"

"Thank you Herr Konstantin, I am here to see Phoenix Wright." They chatted for a moment and Konstantin led her to Phoenix who was sitting at the piano, trying desperately to unlock a tune with the befuddling keys before him. Franziska had never felt genuine pity for anyone, until now.

It had been two years since Phoenix Wright had been disbarred and in those two years the young Von Karma had witnessed a change in the man like she had no other. The man sitting before her now was nothing but a shadow of the former great defense attorney he once was. He was dressed shabbily in a dull gray sweatshirt and bright blue beanie – no doubt to hide the fact that personal hygiene had taken a backseat to his personal life and current living situation. Franziska shivered again, thinking about the cases she had prosecuted, facing off against the passionate young lawyer.

"Only the foolish try foolishly to find the right note to play to fools who don't give a damn." She stood arms length from Phoenix with her hand on her hip.

"Franziska Von Karma," he said as he turned around to face the young woman slowly. She had grown into a lovely young lady, he thought, and even though they had kept in touch over the last couple years (through no encouragement of the other) he could see the maturity of her father creeping into her eyes. He imagined her mother was a beautiful creature – she would have to be to overcome the Von Karma genes. "What, may I ask, does one Miles Edgeworth have to say to me this time?" He said, the scorn dripping from his voice.

Franziska narrowed her eyes at the man. She loved her step-brother, and she hated that this man talked in this manner about him. However, another part of her was ashamed and angry at Miles Edgeworth for running away, yet again, from a situation that was out of his control. What's more, she hated the fact that she was torn between these two men – Franziska von Karma was never uncertain about anything.

She took a deep breath before she spoke. "Why would you assume I'm here for anything other than a social call, Phoenix Wright?" She watched her breath come out in little clouds and it reminded her briefly of childhood winters in Germany.

"Heh," Phoenix chuckled as he put his hand on his beanie and ducked his head. "Because the Franziska Von Karma I know doesn't make social calls. The Franziska Von Karma I know is Miles Edgeworth's messenger girl. Unless, I don't know Franziska Von Karma anymore?" He looked up at her as he cocked his eyebrow.

"I-I...That is annoying Phoenix Wright, using my full name all the time. Please refrain from ...doing...that." She had her whip in her hands, her fingers clenched tightly around the cord.

"Six months and you haven't changed your little habit have you?" He turned back to the piano and started plucking at it again. "Too bad Franny, I was starting to like you after all this time."

The woman scowled at him and resisted the urge to unleash the mighty power of whip on him. The last time she had, three large Russian men in black suits had came out of nowhere and promptly carried her out, kicking and screaming.

"You are impossible, Phoenix Wri – Grr…"

"Heh, heh… Old habits are hard to break!" He chuckled as he turned to see her turn a shade of pink, reminiscent of one Miles Edgeworth's pink suit. His smile faded as he thought of the man that left him at his most desperate hour. There was a hole in his chest where his heart had been and it had yet to heal. Even Trucy's charming smile was not a sufficient balm for his searing pain. He sighed deeply.

"Phoenix Wri – Phoenix. I think," Franziska paused to find the right words. Deep emotions were never her specialty, but she was learning, thanks to the two stupid saps that wouldn't put their pasts behind them. He was looking at her expectantly. "I think I have something that you... that you will want to have." She reached in the small satchel that she carried with her and pulled out a small brown envelope and handed it to the wary looking pianist. He regarded it for a moment before shaking his head.

"I told you, I'm not accepting anything from that man."

"Please, Phoenix, I am tired of all this foolish nonsense." She looked down. "I will never understand Miles Edgeworth's actions or why he is so afraid. But if there are two people in the world that deserve to be happy, it is you and my foolish little brother." Franziska then did something that Phoenix had only seen her do once before. He had accompanied her to her fathers grave after he died in prison and she had taken off her gloves to touch the rough stone. It was the only time that Phoenix had seen her cry. They had stood, with his arm around her, in the rain for several hours as she stared at her fathers name engraved in the cold gravestone. Franziska had now taken her gloves off again and reached out her hand. She hesitated then, tentatively, placed her hand on Phoenix's cheek. He sucked in a quick breath of air. The expression on her face was genuine and he was completely caught off – guard. "Please, if not for Miles, then... then for me."

The air hung thick between them as Phoenix studied her.

"Franziska," He started. "You...really are..." He trailed off. "Yes, for you… I will accept this –whatever it is you have for me."

The young woman let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and her hand lingered on his cheek for a second before it disappeared back in the glove. She handed Phoenix the unmarked envelope. He took it and felt it for a second, cocking his head at her as he concentrated.

"It... feels like a key...?"

"Yes Phoenix, it is the key to the house you two once shared and that I now occupy. Mil – " She paused. "... I want you to meet me at that house no later than three o'clock tomorrow afternoon." She smoothed down her jacket and cleared her throat. "I have a flight to catch tomorrow at seven o'clock in the evening and I do not want to be late. This will be the last message I will deliver to you, Phoenix Wright. I am leaving for Germany and do not plan to come back for quite some time."

Phoenix blinked at her. Then looked down at the envelope. "I... last..." As much as he didn't want to admit it he was growing rather fond of Franziska's visits. It was the only connection he had left to Miles. Now he was going to have to come face-to-face with the memories of the house that Miles and Phoenix had lived in, together… As a couple... A couple...

The words echoed in Phoenix's head as he suddenly broke down. He hated himself for being such an emotional mess. He hid his face in his hands as Franziska looked around. A couple at the table nearby were the only ones that took notice and she recognized them as regulars. She knew that they knew more about this whole situation than was their business; the pitiful expressions on their faces gave them away. She threw a glare their way before slowly putting her arm around Phoenix. He leaned into her. She gave a small yelp as he practically threw his arms around her. Biting her lip, she lifted his arms off herself for a second as she sat next to him on the piano bench. Then, his arms were back around her as she reciprocated in kind.

Phoenix hated the overly extravagant house. He hated the overwhelming feeling of emptiness that it gave him every time he had stepped into it after Miles left. He hated the memories the rooms were filled with; the echoes of the love that was shared in each room. He hated it even more now given his current state of affairs.

Standing in the foyer with Franziska sparked his memory. She'd shown up on the door step about six months after Phoenix's disbarment and promptly hired maids and ordered Phoenix to follow some semblance of a routine hygiene pattern after finding out he had taken Trucy under his wing. She moved in slowly and looked after the two, sending Miles regular updates, until suddenly, a couple of months later, he evacuated the house that haunted every fiber of his emotional being.

Of course, it wasn't hard for Franziska to find Phoenix; she knew where he worked and she visited often. He hated being watched just as much as Franziska hated being used. She finally put her foot down and told Miles that she was tired of being his messenger girl. He wasn't ready to come back to the states and face Phoenix so he asked of her one last favor.

Which was exactly why Franziska dragged Phoenix back to the house that haunted his memories.

"Franziska, I-I'm not sure... I mean I don't think..." He blew out a puff of air as he adjusted his beanie. Except for the previous evening, he had been really good at hiding behind an emotionless mask especially for Trucy's sake. Now as he stood in the open foyer, he could feel the flood of emotions wash over him. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic he reached out for Franziska as she caught him by the elbow.

"Phoenix," Her voice was surprisingly soothing as she hesitantly laid her hand on the side of his face. "You must do this. You must face your demons. If not for yourself then for Trucy's sake. The faster we get this done, the faster you can leave all this in the past."

He blinked at her. "The past...Franziska, it feels like someone has punched a hole in my chest. It… I will never be rid of this pain." His hand went instinctively to his chest and she put her hand over it.

"Please Phoenix..." She tugged at his hand and they made their way to the lounge at the back of the house. Phoenix's breathing became ragged and he sat on the black leather couch that occupied the wall opposite the piano that was covered in a heavy dust cloth.

"Miles used to play that piano. Fluently, I might add." Phoenix sniffed as the young woman walked over to the grand instrument. She grabbed one corner and in one fluid motion, flung the sheet off of the piano. Dust motes floated and seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that filtered through the large picture windows that occupied the other walls. The smooth black piano shone like a beacon in the middle of the room. Suddenly, something gold caught Phoenix's eye. It was just a flash, but it was enough and he stood and walked over to the piano. Franziska watched him carefully as he reached out and touched the gold band that was hanging from the piano's open top. Even though it only weighed a few ounces, to him it bore all the weight of a thousand tears and he sank onto the piano bench.

"Phoenix Wright," The young prosecutor sat on the bench next to the man and wrapped an arm around him. "Miles... was going to propose to you the night you left to play cards with Zak Gramarye. He… He said he tried to warn you but you were insistent... I truly am sorry Phoenix."

Phoenix never moved. He just stared at the band of gold.

Phoenix was a zombie over the next several months. Franziska delayed all the plans that she had and took Trucy up to Hazakura Temple for Maya to take care of. Maya happily took the little girl in and Pearls and Trucy got along swimmingly.

Short of begging Miles to come back to the states, Franziska had exhausted all options in getting Phoenix to snap out of his stupor. Being exhausted herself, she was about to haul the man up to the Temple herself.

"I feel like a fool. I'm completely helpless." She said into her phone to Maya. It had been three years and still nothing from Phoenix. He went to the Borscht Bowl and played his piano and his poker and came home and went to bed all the while not saying a word to anyone. The desperation in her voice was frightening, even to herself. "I am going to bring him to you Maya. You always put a smile on his face. Maybe get him piano lessons while you're at it. God knows he needs them."

"Piano lessons..." Phoenix's raspy voice startled the young Von Karma and she almost dropped the phone. "I need piano lessons. He will come back to me if I learn how to play the piano."

"Maya – I have to go –"

So here they were now, standing in Kristoph Gavin's office, after Phoenix insisted that Kristoph was the one that would give him lessons. Franziska hated being there. There was bad blood between the Von Karmas and the Gavins but Phoenix was oblivious.

"Wright, I am not qualified to give any sort of instrumental instruction. Have you forgotten that I am a defense lawyer? Besides, I specialize in classical violin, not piano." Kristoph explained as he examined his nails.

"I've heard you play. You're amazing." Phoenix explained as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. Kristoph regarded the man carefully. He never meant for Phoenix to fall this far and, for a moment, felt a small twinge of pity for the ex-defense attorney.

"Hmm, well, I guess it wouldn't hurt anything. It would be nice to hear some actual music as I eat my Borscht." The blond smirked as Franziska threw him a look of contempt. "What brought this on in the first place, Wright? Your passion for the piano was about as fiery as my passion for my brother's music."

Phoenix narrowed his eyes at Kristoph for a brief moment as he contemplated his answer. "I want to make a good impression on... the customers at the 'Bowl'. You're right, Kristoph, they deserve to hear some decent music while they eat."

"You're lying, Phoenix, but I will agree to teach you anyway." The defense attorney gestured to the dark-haired man and smiled a small smile. "It would do you well to work on your poker face."

Phoenix spent the next few months sitting next to Kristoph on a piano bench much to Franziska's chagrin. She never expressed her concerns or her hatred for the blond attorney; she was happy just to have Phoenix talking again. She was also happy to see Trucy and Phoenix pick up where they left off. She often wondered if Trucy knew about Miles but knew it wasn't her place to say anything.

"Phoenix," Kristoph started one day. He put a hand over Phoenix's left hand and the other recoiled in shock; Kristoph was not one for any physical contact of any sort.

"I... What is it, Kristoph?" Phoenix turned a nervous gaze on the latter as he carefully picked up Phoenix's hand and examined the gold band.

"I've never seen this on your hand before... Is it... What I think it is?"

"What do you think it is?" Phoenix asked. He had been wearing it for two days and it felt so natural, it scared him.

Kristoph regarded the man over his glasses as he fingered the smooth band. His hands were soft on Phoenix's dry ones and he was starting to get nervous. "Phoenix, please, I'm not a fool." The dark-haired man tried to pull his hand away but Kristoph had a tight grip.

"This is a wedding band, Phoenix!"

"Ow! I know it's a wedding band, Kristoph! Can I have my hand back?" Phoenix managed to pull it back, but the blond had his band in between his index finger and thumb, examining it.

"The King Of Hearts..." Kristoph read the inscription on the outside of the ring aloud, then squinted to read the one on the inside of the ring. "M. Edgeworth... As in Miles Edgeworth?"

"Y-Yes..." Phoenix stuttered and blushed and turned his head.

"The demon prosecutor?"

"The same..."

"I see," Kristoph regarded Phoenix carefully. "I guess love knows no bounds." Then he took Phoenix's hand and slid the ring back on his finger with ease. "So, where is Miles?"

"He's... he's in Germany. Now let's get back to work. I'm not in the mood to discuss my romantic notions." He placed his fingers on the keyboard and played a somber cord.

Kristoph brought up the subject of Miles only once more and Phoenix evaded the subject again. Two weeks later, Apollo was accusing his mentor of murder.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two weeks since the first Jurists trial, and Phoenix had hoped he would have heard at least a peep from Miles. Franziska had left for Germany a couple months after Phoenix had asked Kristoph for his help. She was a nervous wreck when she left and Phoenix had never learned why.

Now, the weight of the ring on his finger increased every day as he spun it nervously. He hadn't played the piano since the night that Kristoph murdered Shadi. Five months later, he was certain his skills hadn't diminished that much. But what reason did he have to play now? He had no way of contacting Miles or Franziska and the hole in his chest was starting to hurt again. He took a deep breath and walked across the stage of the Sunshine Coliseum to the gleaming black piano. The roof was open and he could smell the ocean as a small breeze touched his face. Sitting down on the bench, Phoenix looked up at the indigo sky and wondered if Miles was looking at the same stars. Biting his lip to keep the tears at bay, he let his fingers dance across the keys, playing Clair de Lune. By the time he was finished with the song, his hands were wet with his tears. He sniffed, pulling his beanie off, and wiped his eyes.

"Achtung! Herr Wright!" Klavier's voice was soft yet firm. Phoenix stood too fast and his hand came down on the keys. A small patch of pink spread across his face as he tried to get his bearings. "I apologize. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I-I didn't think there was anyone here." Phoenix said quietly. He ducked his head and fumbled with his hat as he continued. "I was just leaving." He started to leave but realized that Klavier was blocking his way. The blond reached up slowly and helped him adjust his hat. Phoenix looked up into ocean-blue eyes that were just as troubled as his. This was the man who accused him seven years ago of forging evidence and now they were staring at each other, both heartbroken, both at a loss for words.

"No. I'm sorry for listening in." Klavier finally broke the heavy silence. "But I didn't realize that you played so well."

"Yeah, well, I won't be playing anymore. I have no one to play for." Phoenix looked away. Klavier frowned as he studied the forlorn look that came over the others face.

"You have Trucy..."

Phoenix sighed and nodded.

"But there is someone else you'd rather play for who isn't there?"

"I..." Phoenix looked back at Klavier. They studied each other again as another breeze ruffled Klavier's blond hair. He smiled and put his arm around Phoenix and led him back to the piano.

"Play something for me," he said. "Just for tonight."

"I... No, Klavier," Phoenix ducked out from under Klavier's arm. "I'm really not that good. I just started learning from Kristoph and..."

"From _mein Bruder_?" Klavier's face lit up. "Well, he's the best person to learn from. I learned everything I know from him!" He paused his expression dimming. "Well, not everything." Phoenix blinked at him as he sat and ran his fingers deftly along the keys. "Come. Play." He looked up at Phoenix with pleading eyes. Eyes that, if Phoenix wasn't careful, he could probably get lost in. They were a little greener than Kristoph's, but they both had different shades of blue. Phoenix played Moonlight Sonata and Klavier was resting his head on Phoenix's shoulder at the end. Seamlessly, Phoenix went into another song and Klavier joined in.

The two lawyers met like that for the next couple months. Sometimes Klavier would invite Ema and sometimes Phoenix would bring Trucy and Apollo along.

One particularly balmy evening Klavier was running late and Phoenix had started practicing a piece that the blond attorney had left with Apollo. It was a piece that Klavier had written himself and after running through it once, Phoenix was impressed. He took off his sweatshirt and beanie and ran his hands through his hair. He wiped his hand on his jeans and sat down again and played through the piece.

"Herr Wright!!" Klavier breezed in. There was a glow about him and he was holding his head a little higher than usual.

"Klavier," Phoenix jumped in his seat, startled by the interruption. "I'd say that there is something different about you..."

"She said yes!" The blond was now sitting on the bench and had the dark-haired man in a tight hug.

"Err... I'm assuming you proposed to Ema?"

"Yes," The other stood and took off his trademark purple jacket. He rolled up his sleeves as he explained how he proposed. Phoenix, however, was staring at the jacket the prosecutor had discarded. The way Klavier had taken it off was identical to the way Miles took his jacket off when he was about to embark on some serious paperwork or seducing Phoenix...

"Phoenix? Hello?!" Klavier was waving a tanned hand in front of the others eyes as he shook his head. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Phoenix said slowly as he looked at the jacket one more time then turned and faced the piano once again. "I... don't know if I can do this anymore." He knew Miles was never coming back; why should he keep playing? He put his head in his hands to try to contain the tears that had been threatening to escape for the last few weeks. He had seen Klavier and Ema together; the way they held hands, the way he sweetly kissed the top of her head – it took every ounce of his being not to explode at them, to tell them that true love doesn't exist and they were living a lie. Instead he took his frustrations out on the punching bag that the owner of the Borscht bowl kept in storage just for the occasion of letting off steam.

"Oh, Phoenix," Klavier had sat again and was about to take Phoenix in his arms, when the stage lights hit the gold band on Phoenix's left hand just right. Suddenly, Klavier understood. He gently grabbed the others wrist. Phoenix resisted for a moment before defeatedly letting Klavier have his hand. He wiped his eyes with the other.

"Herr Wright," Klavier fingered the smooth band as he asked permission to remove it. Phoenix nodded and Klavier held it exactly like Kristoph had. Phoenix shivered at the memory. "This is beautiful. M. Edgeworth? As in... Miles Edgeworth? The Demon Prosecutor?"

Phoenix winced again. "He isn't..."

"Herr Wright," Klavier interrupted. "Don't be annoyed with me. I'm only using the title as a clarification. I have the utmost respect for the man." Klavier lowered the ring and looked at Phoenix. The look in his eyes tugged at Klavier's heart and he wiped Phoenix's tears away. "He must've loved you to no end."

Phoenix sniffed and took a deep breath. "I dunno. Haven't seen the man for over seven years."

"What?" Klavier said, surprised. "I know he left his position here in the states rather abruptly but I thought he had come back once or twice... I'm sorry Phoenix, I - I had no idea."

"Not many do."

"I feel foolish for flaunting my happiness,"

"Please don't, Klavier." Phoenix adjusted his hat. "You deserve all the happiness in the world after what's happened to you."

"Herr Wright," Klavier said, suddenly getting shy as he looked at his hands. "Would you... I would be honored if you played at our wedding..."

"Heh, me? No, Klavier you should have a professional..."

"Nein. I don't want some impersonal performance." Klavier looked up at Phoenix. "I want someone who I know will play with his heart and convey the feeling."

Phoenix opened and closed his mouth. He was speechless. A smile spread across Klavier's handsome features.

"Think about it, _bitte_?" The blond turned and rested his fingers gently on the keys. "I think Ema would be excited to have you as well."

"I will," Phoenix plucked a few chords. "And Klavier? Thank you… for listening."

What Phoenix didn't know was how closely Klavier was listening – his ears heard the words and his heart translated the longing into a plan. Phoenix was going to get the surprise of a lifetime.

* * *

Phoenix was adjusting his bow tie in the long gilded mirror that was in the dressing room of the Beach House – the country club that Klavier and Ema agreed to marry in. It was modest on the outside, but very outspoken on the inside. He couldn't remember the last time he was in a suit like this. He looked down at himself. 'Not bad,' he thought as he tugged at the white jacket. He played with his hair, which was another thing that had surprised him that morning. It was like his hair was permanently paralyzed into that style. After more than seven years of not doing anything with it, his thick dark locks went right into place. His tie was crooked and he took it off and started over with it. A gasp behind him startled him as he turned to see Ema gawking at him.

"Mr. Wright…!" Her hand was on her face in surprise. Her chocolate brown hair was in a messy sort of updo with baby's breath entwined in the bobby pins that were holding up her hair. Her dress was white silk that hugged her curves well and draped like a Grecian goddess to the floor. There was a subtle hint of silver trim around the plunging neckline and along the short sleeves.

"You look beautiful!" he exclaimed just as Ema said, "You look so handsome!"

They laughed in unison. Ema walked to Phoenix and helped him with his tie.

"I want to thank you for playing at our wedding, Mr. Wright," she said softly while tugging on his tie in an attempt to readjust it into a decent knot.

"Please Ema, call me Phoenix." He gave her a small smile. "And you're welcome."

"Alright, Phoenix." She smiled back and her whole face lit up. Phoenix placed a hand on the side of her face.

"Ema, you have grown into such a beautiful young woman. And a bright one at that! Klavier is lucky to have someone as special as you."

Ema's eyes were threatening to tear up as she placed her hand on his and felt the coolness of the gold band that was around Phoenix's finger.

"Oh, Mr. Wri – I mean Phoenix," She stuttered as she took his hand and gazed at the band. "I... Klavier told me about... this." She paused and sniffed. Then suddenly had him in a giant bear hug. "He still loves you! I know he does!"

"Ema, we need...oh!" Lana stopped with a surprised look as she came into the room. "I'll leave you two to be." She started to back out but Ema interrupted her.

"Lana! I'll be there in a second." Ema untangled herself from Phoenix as one of the delicate flowers that was in her hair caught on Phoenix's hair. Lana chuckled and came over to help.

"Lana. It's good to see you again." Phoenix said after he cleared his throat.

"It's good to see you Mr Wright. Thank you for playing today." She smiled. "I think there is someone else who would be happy to see you as well." Lana and Ema beamed as they made their way out of the room. Phoenix's look of confusion melted into pure incomprehension as Miles Edgeworth walked into the room.

And his world rocked.

It was at that moment that Phoenix realized how foolish he was to think he could ever keep a mental picture of Miles in his head. Nothing in his mind could do justice to the utter perfection of his silver hair nor the startling clarity of his grey eyes. The intensity of his features was an aura that could only be witnessed – never contained by something as unreliable as a memory.

"Thank you Lana." Miles voice was the same soothing deep voice, only with a stronger lilt and yet it seemed somehow more melodic than all of the compositions Phoenix had played over the past few years. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest.

"Phoenix... I – ooof!!" He gasped as Phoenix unfroze and yanked him into a tight embrace.

"You left me, Miles! You abandoned me! I loved you so much and you left me when I needed you..." The rest of what Phoenix said was lost in hysterical sobbing. Miles wrapped his arms around the other man and rested his head on the broad shoulder.

"I know, Phoenix. I was afraid to come back... afraid you wouldn't forgive me," he murmured. They held each other for a moment longer before Phoenix moved back. Miles winced at his red eyes and tear streaked face and took a handkerchief to wipe away the trails of pain.

"You... You're really here..." Phoenix caught Miles in a rough kiss then pulled away.

"Yes, I am really here!" Miles said, smirking. He watched as Phoenix took him in, as if awestruck by his beauty.

"Miles, you're wearing glasses." Phoenix touched the platinum frames as Miles chuckled, then immediately stopped. The sunlight hit Phoenix's hand just right and the light reflecting off the gold startled Miles. He grabbed Phoenix's hand and inspected the band.

"Phoenix..." He said breathed. "You... You're wearing it! You're wearing the ring."

"It fits perfectly," was all that Phoenix could get out before Miles's lips were on his. It was a passionate and desperate kiss. Miles pulled away first and held up his hand. An identical ring was on his finger.

"M-Miles," The dark haired man took the band off and on the outside 'King of Diamonds' was engraved, and 'P. Wright' on the inside. Phoenix bit his lip to keep from crying. "How... You're here..."

Miles licked his lips to keep from chuckling at Phoenix's speechlessness. "I received a call from Lana about five months back stating that she was coming to Germany and she needed a place to live. Well, it was all a ruse. She came alright – with Ema and Klavier in tow. One day, Klavier asked me what the meaning of 'King of Hearts' was." Miles paused. "I almost died right there. I hadn't heard that, not to mention thought about it, in over eight years. He told me of his talk with you, about the ring and such. That's when I knew this wedding would be the perfect time for me to come back."

They looked at each other, studying the subtle changes in each others faces, the tiny crows feet that formed at the corner of Phoenix's eyes, his broad shoulders and lean frame.

"You left me Miles, and I… I felt like someone had ripped my heart out. There was nothing left except the growing ache of missing you. And I hated you at the same time. I was wracked with pain and yet I felt numb..." Phoenix sniffed. "Franziska helped me... A lot. I'm sure she was ready to have me committed. Is she here? I owe her a debt of gratitude."

"No, unfortunately, she couldn't make it," Miles said as he tied the bow-tie that Phoenix was struggling with earlier. "However, I will tell her how much you appreciate her."

"Miles..." Phoenix caught the silver-haired man in another passionate kiss. Miles touched the others face as they parted.

"Now, you have a wedding to play for," Miles said. "Let's get going."

"I have more than that to play for, now!" Phoenix embraced the other. "I love you Miles. Please… Please don't ever leave me again." Phoenix squeezed his eyes shut to fight the tears that were threatening to spill.

"I promise Phoenix," Miles said as they parted and he clasped Phoenix's left hand in his. "I promise on these two rings that I will never leave you again. You will always be the King of my Heart."


End file.
